Hunter Arcane

Tuesday, October 28th.

Twilight had come swiftly to Lupin-woods.

It’s a bitter Tuesday night, and currently I’m at the town’s local bar, called Malones. At present I was heading out into the beer garden and as the doors closed gently behind me, the commotion from the inside came to a manageable hum.

Looking up to the night sky; the moon was intense, and my eyes filled instantaneously with the reflection of its harmonious beauty.

I’m unsure why, but I have always felt a sense of understanding between the pair of us; the moon and I. Simply because it didn’t matter how bright it shined; she was always up there alone.

Feeling the isolation that I harbour so profoundly inside, I looked down at my phone, seeing the clock tick past midnight. Glancing back at the moon above I let out a deflated sigh, “Happy birthday, Luna.”

Unlike most people, birthdays are particularly difficult for me to celebrate. This is because my biological birth parents abandoned me as a newborn.

As the story goes, I was found on the towns church doorsteps, in the middle of a murky October back in 1995. Completely unharmed, I was placed inside a rustic weaved picnic basket, with nothing but a thick wolf skin to keep me warm, and my name; Luna-Rae Artemis. This series of events has unfortunately caused a huge void to be left unanswered in my life, and now I always loathe this day coming around.

I do wonder about my birth parents, especially my mother, and especially today.

Is it even possible to miss someone you have never met?

If I overthink long enough, the answer always comes back as a yes; otherwise, why would I be thinking of her at all?

No matter how many reasons, or somewhat half-believable explanations I come up with, I don’t believe I will ever find one where I might just start to understand why they did what they did.

As I looked back at the moon, tears unwillingly sprung into my eyes. I have this bad habit of assuming she could be looking back at me. I know she is not, but that giant white rock in the sky seems to be the only thing that has been there for me every night, shining its light down on me during my darkest days. This being said I can’t thank the moon for everything.

Luckily for me, I was found and raised by the gentlest of souls, the town’s pastor and his wife.

They have since told me that on the night that I was born, there was huge controversy as there just happened to be a prominent blue moon. We could only assume this is why my birth parents wanted me to be called Luna-Rae.

Growing up, I was the only orphan in the town, so making friends for me was difficult. I always understood why. I was the weird kid, with natural platinum blonde hair, wintry blue eyes and a peculiar obsession with the stars. Other children may have kept a lengthy distance, but this did come with its advantages; animals bizarrely love me.

It is a tradition in this town that you don’t go to school until you are ten years old. This is because you should be spending the majority of your childhood at home, learning the family traditions. Obviously, I didn’t have the luxury of a family to rely on, so while I was at the church, I did charitable work until school age and then once school begins; you don’t leave till you’re eighteen.

School was regimented, strict and hard bloody work, and I, for one, was ecstatic to be finally leaving.

When I finally hit adulthood, I was well and truly on my own, and this I was extremely unprepared for.

Because of my circumstances, there was no family business to join, so the pastor and his wife drafted me in to take over serving at the central coffee shop called ’The Bean.’

I took over the previous server, who has been missing now for nearly twelve years. It remains a mystery what happened to her, but to this day, we still have the original missing poster hanging in the window. It may have discoloured now, but if I went missing like she did, then it would be nice to know I wasn’t forgotten about like her.

Hearing the bar door open behind me, a drunk couple staggered outside for a quiet moment alone. I smiled, brought my wandering thoughts into captivity and headed back inside.

Malones is a small, old-fashioned sports bar, which is situated on a quiet side street in the centre of town. This place radiated authenticity and consisted of old leather-topped stools, emerald-green lighting, and flickering neon beer signs on every wall.

Over in the corner, there is a young woman, with a cute little guitar in one hand, and a microphone in the other. She was singing a cover version of Taylor Swift’s Anti-Hero.

Peering over the crowd of people that had gathered, I saw the table I left my friend Hazel and her boyfriend Seb sitting at was now empty.

I rolled my eyes, pulled my phone out of the back pocket of my skinny ripped jeans and rang her straight away.

To my surprise, she answered on the second ring. “Luna?”

“Where the heck are you guys?!”

“We just left.”

I rushed out the front entrance to see the taillights of their taxi fading away in the distance. “We assumed you had slipped off. Are you still there?”

“Yes. I said I was coming back.”

“You do have a habit of leaving social gatherings unannounced. Look, I will turn the taxi around; we can get one more.”

“There is no point now. I might as well walk home. I’ve work in the morning.” I kicked the curb in frustration.

“On foot? You have heard the myths and legends about this town, Luna. I don’t think that is such a good idea.”

“Myths being the prominent word there, Hazel. Get with the program.”

“They can’t all be fiction. Take Little Red Riding Hood, for example. That is true.”

“That is the one where the little girl gets eaten by a wolf?” I faintly remember the pastor’s wife reading it to me when I was younger. I never believed it then, and I was five. “Bitch please, she was not a real girl.” I refused to entertain her nonsense.

“Luna, she was real. Things like this happen all the time. You should know, you listen to Mr Ballen’s podcast religiously. These stories are as old as time for a reason.”

“Mr Ballen tells true crime stories, while your delulu parents make your bedtime stories up, so you’re too scared to go wandering off at night. It is all about control. Everything is.”

“So now you’re saying bedtime stories are some sort of conspiracy theories?” She giggled at me.

“I said most, not all.” I shrug. “Just think about the plot line of Red Riding Hood, for example. Who in their right mind would be walking through a wolf hunting ground, with a picnic basket full of baked goodies, dressed head to toe in a blood-red coat?”

“When you put it like that, it does sound stupid, but I still believe she was a real girl.”

“I guess that’s all it takes; believing.” I bat away a group of fireflies that had begun circling me.

“What is up with you anyway, Luna? You have hardly said two words all night, and now we are on the phone, you’re talking my ear off.”

I sighed at her question, but I’m not going to lie to her now she has asked.

“It’s my birthday, Hazel,” I confess.

“No, it is not.”

“Hazel it is. It’s the 29th.”

Silence followed, and now the penny finally dropped.

“O, my God. I am so sorry. I completely forgot!”

“It is fine.”

“It is not. Why the fuck haven’t you reminded me!”

“Well, I genuinely thought you were throwing me a surprise party. I was waiting for you or Seb to rush out with a big thirty cake with one of those giant sparklers in it.”

I made a joke of it, but as much as I played it down, it did bother me that she had forgotten.

“Don’t do that.” She replies.

“Do what?”

“Make a joke of it.”

“I’d rather joke than cry, so you will have to deal with it I’m afraid.”

“Luna, I feel fucking bad. That’s it. I’m coming back to the bar. We can celebrate in style.”

“There is no point. I’m already halfway down the street.”

“But... you’re thirty.”

“I don’t care. It is just another number. Honestly, Hazel, don’t worry about it. You know me, I hate the whole day, anyway. You can just grab me a drink another time. Maybe at your party?”

Her boyfriend, Seb, is throwing her a Halloween-themed party, as Hazel’s birthday just happens to land on 31st October. It is all she has banged on about for weeks.

“Well, if that is what you want. I hadn’t managed to ask you tonight as Seb was with us, but have you managed to find a plus one yet?”

“Nope.”

“How about a costume?”

“Not yet.”

“Luna, you can’t turn up in your oversized cable-knit sweater alone.”

Damn, the truth sure hurts sometimes. “I will decide what I do. Right, I’m going as my phone is saying it’s on 1%”

“Luna!”

“Speak tomorrow, love you, bye!”

“Luna-Rae!” Before she was able to say anything else, I hung up the phone. I didn’t want to have a conversation with her about plus ones or what dress-up, cosplay, or costume she thinks I should or should not wear.

Pushing my phone back inside the pocket of my jeans, I wrapped my red plaid flannel shirt tightly around me and continued the short walk home on this blistery autumn night.

The streets are currently unoccupied. However, each property I passed had the spirit of fall, well and truly upon it. Cute lanterns bring warmth to shop windows, while autumn wreaths hung on the doors of the townhouses brought a comforting aesthetic to the season ahead.

I enjoyed the walk and admired the mature horse chestnut trees that lined the pavements as far as the eyes could see.

My house is on the last street heading out of town, Maple Street. This meant I had to walk past the church to get home.

As I approached the corner, there was an old, weathered white picket fence that edged the grounds, with the church sitting humbly, approximately fifty yards to the left. No one lives here now, but it is still regularly used for weddings and blessings throughout the year.

I won’t lie, it felt a little strange to be here at this time of night and on my birthday, but as I nudged the gate, it gradually opened, inviting me inside. I hesitated at first but soon found myself walking the path of fallen leaves and up the front steps that I was left abandoned on exactly thirty years ago.

Taking a seat on the top step, I stared up at the night sky in awe, momentarily transfixed by the beauty of the moon once again.

I noticed after a few short moments that there was a peculiar stillness in the air.

No rustling of the leaves.

No autumn wind.

Just silence.

On the road I had just walked, I saw an enormous figure lurking out of the shadows. It was a large, white wolf that seemed to be stalking my scent with precision.

My breath hitched in a panic, and the wolf abruptly stopped.

It heard me.

I stayed deadly still, watching as this mighty creature now studied the ground beneath it.

The wolf itself looked unwell and somewhat old, but as my heart began to thump intensely in my chest, its murky yellow eyes momentarily peered in my direction.

I froze.

This monstrous white animal slowly entered the church grounds. A low growl, briefly becoming louder with each delicate step it took.

Realising it was coming for me, I began to create more distance, but as my back pushed hard against the cold church door, it saw I was trapped and pounced.

I let out a blood-curdling scream, sure I was about to die in the jaws of this predatory animal, when, unexpectedly, something unbeknown leapt out of the bushes beside me.

The entire universe stalled.

It was another wolf, and it was as black as the shadow it appeared from.

I watched in amazement as time slowed and it leapt right over me, stopping the white wolf from causing me any harm.

The white, older wolf howled in pain, rolling off into the long grass.

Standing stern with authority, this majestic looking black wolf was completely different. It was visually younger, had pristine black velvet-like fur and piercing grey eyes.

As it looked directly at me, I stiffened in a panic, but then it did the most bizarre thing; it began to back away from me.

I found myself in a state of perplexity.

I thought I was on the food chain.

Our gaze remained locked; eyes of hurricane grey stared back at me, but in the shadows behind, the white wolf reappeared.

“Watch out!” I warned, but it was too late. By the time the black wolf had a chance to defend itself, its older rival launched a vicious attack.

The sound of their savage nature was utterly terrifying to hear. I watched on as they rolled around in a vicious frenzy, but thankfully, amongst all the brutality, I saw a window of opportunity to get away; so, I ran, as fast as my trembling legs would carry me.